


in time

by wordcatchers



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, POV Third Person Plural, Past and Present, Post-Finale, Present Tense, also Pre-show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2910104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcatchers/pseuds/wordcatchers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments from the Krew’s past, and a moment in their futures together. None of them could have ever thought they’d come so far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in time

She is nine years old, and her earthbending is strong, her Master says. He watches, sitting upon a block of his native element that he bent himself, as she stands firm upon the land, lifts the earth into the air, and smashes it all against the ice wall of her arctic tundra home. She beams at him and he smiles, his rough around the edges voice beckoning her over to him.

He lifts her onto his lap, saying, “I suspect by the time you are a teenager, you will be your own earthbending Master.” He ruffles up her hair, but she only pouts.

"Why not _sooner_?” she asks, huffing. “You say it’s already _strong_.”

Her Master reminds her that she is still training in waterbending under Master Katara, as well. “Water is your native element, and it will be mastered first.” He gently picks her up under her arms and sets her back down onto the snow, his tone reassuring as he tells her, “We’ve only just begun, Korra. You have a natural strength, and it will lend to your progress as long as you wait, and listen.”

She remembers Master Katara laughing in good humor, albeit with a tinge of something sorrowful clinging to the edges of it, when she lays down in bed that night after sharing a meal and telling her how her earthbending Master had been so insistent upon “waiting and listening.”

"You will understand in time, Korra," Master Katara had told her.

She also remembers all of the other times she had been told the exact same thing, whenever she pressed about _why_ she was stuck here, _why_ she must stay in this compound, _why_ she can’t go outside and play with the other children, _why_ can’t she have any other friends besides Naga. (She’ll never count those twin cousins of hers as “friends.” They’re too _creepy_ , plus they hardly ever visit with her uncle and aunt.)

Most of all, though, she wonders why everything is _"in time, Korra."_

.

.

They are nine and seven years old, respectively. He bends a pool of flames within his hands and warms Bolin as well as he can, hating to see his little brother shivering from the freezing wind and clothing damp from the rains. Bolin grins a little, teeth chattering, and thanks him.

The building is vacant, unused for about three years, he’s heard. Vagrants have come and gone during that span of time, all run out by the police — beat cops, they’re called — but they’ve only been here for about a week now, and it’s been all right so far. He has borrowed a few books from the trash and dumpsters that they have also found nourishment in, and he continues to read to himself, and to his little brother.

Bolin is learning well, though he still has some trouble in their writing lessons. He guides his brother’s hand as well as he can, though, patient with him as the young and inexperienced earthbender would rather take extensive breaks to observe other earthbenders in the city and try to copy their movements later. He enjoys seeing his brother’s face light up as he bends, and it reminds him of the days when they would sit together with their parents and watch as the fire and earth intertwined, flames from their mother’s palm encircled by small rocks their father had bent from the floor.

Tonight, after they dry off some, he congratulates Bolin as he gains more proficiency at another move he had been watching several people use in a small, back alley bending challenge. They can never hope to get in to see pro-bending, neither of them ever believe they can, so this is as good as it gets. Bolin is learning his bending art, though, and sometimes firebenders are present, as well, and they _both_ take informal lessons in their respective bending art.

"I only wish I could _metalbend_ , though,” Bolin murmurs later in the night as they settle down for another sleep. “That would be _amazing_ , Mako.”

He chuckles and lays their father’s red scarf around the both of them. “Maybe someday, Bo,” he says, though he can’t put his heart entirely into it.

Before he goes to sleep, he reminds himself again that this is all they should ever expect out of life. _Do what you can to survive and protect your little brother._

.

.

She is eight years old, and her father is watching as she trains with her martial arts Master. He is stern, yet forgiving with a sense of humor that reminds her that she is just a child. Sometimes she still forgets, though, as she is expected to be on her best behavior, prim and proper, as she accompanies her father to the upper class social gatherings.

Her Master bows to her, and they begin. She dodges and evades, counterattacks to weak spots, and he tells her that her progress is coming along smoothly. They share a smile, and then she feels her father’s touch upon her hair, congratulating her alongside her Master. He stoops down to her level and draws her close, enveloping her into a hug, reminding her that he is proud of her.

"You are the best daughter a father could ask for, Asami," he says, and she glows at his words.

Later in the evening, though, she is reminded of the pain he still holds over her mother’s death, the anguish she catches glimpses of from behind cracked open doors, and she is always just a bit too fearful to go in and attempt to comfort him, because she doesn’t know if anything she could ever do would help. Instead, she chews on her bottom lip and goes back to her own room, settling in at her desk where she continues to read from school books.

She still has flashes of memories of her mother reading to her when she was younger, when she was just beginning her academic lessons. “Mom,” she would say, “what is this character?” and her mother would smile, with her sitting upon her lap, and explain the hànzì. They would read from Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom texts, alongside much newer books originating from their home, Republic City. Every now and then, for a broader world view, her mother would bring home an age-appropriate text written by the ancient Air Nomads, or from the Water Tribes, and she soaks the knowledge up, finding each culture fascinating, hoping someday she might be able to travel to such far-off places and experience it all for herself.

What she has always found most amazing, though, is the Avatar. The one person who can bend all _four_ elements, who strives towards bringing peace and balance between all nations in this world, as well as the spirits. She still remembers her mother reading tales of past Avatars, and her father had sometimes sat with them during breaks from his work. He had smiled, too, back then, saying that perhaps one day the current Avatar might come into contact with them — “We _are_ one of the largest business industries in the world, after all! And, we represent the _future_ at that!” — and she may be able to meet this Avatar, who hails from the Southern Water Tribe.

She never puts too much stock into it, especially now, as he never even _wants_ to speak too much of bending outside of the realm of defense. When they go to galas and other events, though, he lights up when holding conversations with both benders and non-benders alike, and she is encouraged to try and make friends with other businessmen and women’s children. None of these tentative “friendships,” last, however — they are merely an act, a put-upon sham to perform and keep up appearances.

As always, she wishes that she could make a _real_ friend, one that would look beyond images and titles, one that she could be _Asami_ around, not merely the only child and daughter of Hiroshi Sato.

For now, though, she contents herself with her father’s love.

.

.

.

.

They are all in their mid- to late-twenties now, and not one of them ever thought they would end up… well, _here_.

Kwong’s Cuisine is not her style any longer, at least when it comes to non-business matters. Narook’s is a step below what either brother wants for this gathering, and they all can agree on that. They meet in the middle, or at least _somewhere_ along that line, and schedule a date, just the four of them.

The two women arrive last, and one brother is still waiting for them out in the lounge. “Korra, Asami,” he says, a lighthearted smile crossing his face. “It’s so great to see you guys again.” The two women smile back at him and take their hands away from being intertwined within each others, then envelop him in a group hug.

"It’s great to see you, too, Mako," Korra says, and the sentiment is shared by Asami a beat after. When the hug ends, his smile broadens into a grin, and he jabs a thumb back in the direction of the short hall that will lead into the restaurant. "Bolin’s already got his seat saved. C’mon."

None of the four are dressed to the nines — there is no expectation for formalities, and the younger bending brother waves happily, standing up from his seat once he sees his brother return with Asami and Korra.

"You guys!" he exclaims, "It’s _so great_ to see you two again!” Both women smile and laugh, grateful for such a friend like Bolin, now a Beifong himself, and the second group hug of the night is had, complete this time around with all four of them.

The girl who grew up in seclusion from the world laughs brightly now, as she enjoys the company of friends she never imagined she could have as child. She holds her girlfriend’s hand sometimes underneath the table, stroking Asami’s skin with the pad of her thumb, and delights in hearing about what is going on with the bending brothers’ lives.

The bending brothers who were left, after their parents’ deaths, to fend for themselves as small children have now risen far above what _either_ could have ever imagined so many years ago. The eldest looks at the youngest now, not only an earthbender but an experienced _lavabender_ now, and really, who needs metalbending when his Bolin, his baby brother, has done far greater things than simply bending metal?

"Zaofu is _gorgeous_ , you guys,” Bolin says, gesticulating with his arms and hands all the while explaining the restructuring of it, of which he has played a significant role in. “Su decided, y’know, to not rebuild the domes, but we’re extending what’s already there, with more people coming and wanting to live there now. It’s _amazing_ , though, well…” He looks away, pausing for a moment, a finger upon his lips, then makes eye contact with them all again. “Not as amazing as _Opal_ , but, y’know. Pretty amazing all the same!”

Mako doesn’t feel like he can be any more proud of his brother at this point, but he knows Bo always goes above and beyond any expectations he has ever thought of. He takes a drink from his glass and then answers a question the two women ask of him and his current life.

"Lin plans on retiring within the next couple of years," he starts. "She wants me to take over as Chief, though Wu has also extended an offer to work for him again, so I’m… weighing in on my options." He laughs, gauging the reactions on his friends’ faces. 

"Both seem like valid options," Asami says, resting her chin in her hands. Korra nods, then adds, "But what do _you_ want, Mako?”

Many years ago, he had no such options like this. It was “do what you can to survive and protect your little brother.” Sometimes, still, he is astounded at how far his life has come since those days, and honestly, he looks at Korra and his friends for helping to bring him this far. He is still not the best at expressing exactly how he feels, but he knows that it’s written on his face as plain as day, or at least that’s what his girlfriend says.

He scratches at the back of his neck and says, “Republic City is my home, so I’m leaning more towards taking over as Chief, but of course, I’m still thinking about it.”

"What does Hotaru think?" Korra asks through a bite of seal jerky.

Mako smiles and says, “Oh, you know airbenders, she tells me she only wants me to follow what I think is best. She’s… really, _really_ wonderful.”

"Bro," Bolin says, laughing, "You’re sounding like _me_ now, but with Hotaru instead of Opal.” He claps his brother on the back and goes on, saying, “I _love_ it, seeing you  _so in love~_ " He messes up Mako’s hair a bit, and the women laugh with both brothers as Mako blushes like mad.

When their laughter calms down, the girl who grew up without any true friends — friends who would look at her as just _Asami_ , not Hiroshi Sato’s daughter — settles her hand in Korra’s once again, this time atop the table. She still remembers when they first met, how they both danced around Mako’s affections. It’s funny still to think back to that time, when now… they’re _here_ , together.

She _has_ always admired the Avatar, ever since her mother began to tell stories of the person in various past lives, but now she has fallen in love with Korra the person, as well as the Avatar. And, somehow, at some point, Korra fell in love with her — _Asami_ — as well. She remembers that at first, Korra had been mistaken about her, but once she saw differently, Asami knew she had found one of her first  _real_ friends, along with Mako and Bolin.

And now?

She squeezes Korra’s hand, and Korra squeezes back.

This moment in time is all any of them could have ever wished for so long ago.


End file.
